Never Again
by xXduncanxloverXx
Summary: Because sometimes giving flowers isn't always the best thing to do. In fact, sometimes it's just plain creepy.


**Yay for a random IchiRuki one shot that took me 23 minutes to complete...? First time writing for this insanely amazing couple..so go easy on the judgment. Please? If you do you get a cookie. :3**

**T for language.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Stop making me feel bad. D:**

Her tanzanite gaze flickered to him, to the bundle in her arms, then back again in wide eyed shock. "What the hell?" she asked after a few moments of silence, since her vocal chords decided to stop working for a good thirty seconds. The usual scowl was stuck on his handsome features, but she could also see him biting the inside of his lip in either nervousness or frustration. If her guess was valued on her life, she'd go with nervous.

"Flowers. Don't girls like them?" Ichigo finally asked in a gruff tone in an attempt to not be bothered that she found what he was doing was completely irrational and out of character. It probably was a stupid idea in the first place, but it was worth a shot.

Even though he felt embarrassed out of his whits.

"Yeah, ditzy girls." Rukia looked at the flowers, thinking how Orihime probably would have glomped him if he'd done this kind of thing for her.

The line between his eyebrows never wavered and his amber eyes squinted into somewhat of a glare. She tells him to stop being so inconsiderate, he does something nice (and incredibly fruity, if he did say so himself) and got her God damned _flowers_, and here she was- throwing things right back in his face. Like always. "Fine." He snatched the bouquet out of her hands and proceeded to fling them somewhere off into the distance until she could see them no more, thinking that was what she would have done herself eventually.

"Hey!" Rukia yelled indignantly. He lifted his eyebrows at her in mild surprise. "I didn't say that I didn't _want_ them!"

His teeth ground together. God damn that infuriating woman...

He vanished from her sight for no more than two seconds, before reappearing with the mass of stems and a few petals that were left over from his attack on the poor shrubs. "Here." Ichigo shoved them back into her hands, almost making her small frame falter with the force he used because he was getting fed up.

Rukia stared at the twigs in her tiny hands, feeling a sinking panicky feeling slowly building in her stomach. That...that _dumbass_ was giving her flowers- and it wasn't even for some kind of sick practical joke. The Kuchiki midget could tell just by looking up at his smoldering brown eyes that he was doing it because he wanted to (or, rather, felt compelled to at the very least). She shook her head in disbelief, not trusting her voice this time. Her black hair swayed with her movements before she dropped the remains of the flowers to the ground, opened the door behind her, and ran in and shut it as fast as she could manage. Her back was pressed against the door, her heartbeat speeding up as she tried to wrap her mind around what had just been exchanged- in both words and forms of the sorts.

Ichigo stared at the door to her personal barracks (which had just been so rudely slammed in his face, mind you), knowing he could break it in with a single fist. And, as tempting as it was, the tall man decided against it. Rukia was Rukia. She was stubborn and hardheaded and he just had to accept that sometimes. Even if it _did_ cost him his pride sometimes.

His feet started shuffling away dejectedly from her door, his Shinigami robes slightly dragging in the pathway. _'I'm never taking Renji's fucking advise ever again,'_ Ichigo thought bitterly, wondering if said pineapple was near by so he could give him a piece of his mind and possibly relinquish the ego that had just been deflated mere moments ago.

Once she could feel his reiatsu far away from her own, she carefully opened her door back up and saw the rumpled remains of the flowers crippled at her doorstep. Sighing, Rukia bent down and picked them up again, not minding that one of the rose thorns stuck at her finger in an uncomfortable manner. She discreetly peered off in the direction she felt his presence from, and could faintly see a tiny orange dot making its way in the direction opposite of her. She knew they had both came to an understanding.

No more flowers. _Ever_. 


End file.
